


Keep Me Warm

by emotionssuck



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cold, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Smut, cold curse?, kind of..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionssuck/pseuds/emotionssuck
Summary: After the sacrifice at the end of season 3a, Stiles has to deal with the fallout. The darkness isn't the only consequence that he must bear and Scott won't let him suffer alone.
Relationships: Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 230





	Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> lol it's been a minute on here. There is a brief mention of death, dying and hinting at suicide but no actions are taken.

Stiles is perpetually cold now. Has been since he ritually sacrificed himself alongside Scott and Allison. It was hard to notice at first, after all they had to find their parents and Scott had to defeat the darach. But after the first week he realized that it was almost impossible to stay warm for longer than half an hour. He could de-thaw by taking a scalding shower at the end of every day and then burrow in his bed with five blankets piled on him. But hell, if a stiff wind blows his way it seeps into his bones and becomes almost impossible to recover his warmth. 

Living in Northern California, it’s not as if he’s walking through snow drifts everyday in 10 degree weather. The falls and winters are temperate nine days out of ten. Sometimes it snows but no more than two or three inches and it never sticks around long. Just enough to look pretty.

Deaton never said the darkness around his heart was going to be cold. He expected the depression which at this point isn’t constant, but it is noticeable. But the cold part is a true bitch.

It becomes such a hassle that he realizes his wardrobe can’t keep him warm anymore. He picks up a few extra shifts at the police station, doing things like filing and data entry. Something that his ADHD struggles with immensely, but as soon as the extra cash enters his bank account, he drives himself to a few different stores. There, Stiles buys three thick long-sleeve shirts and two lined plaid shirts, as well as a super thick black hoodie which feels like a blanket on the inside. He considers buying long johns, but thinks that might be a bit too far. 

He also starts drinking a lot of tea. Like three cups a day. He avoids coffee and caffeinated tea because he doesn’t want to be awake any longer than he needs to be. His dad only says something when Stiles comes home with four different loose-leaf teas. 

“Are you actually going to drink all of this? Wait, you’re not gonna make me drink it are you?”

“No dad,” Stiles says exasperated. His father always refusing the healthier option. 

“Why is it like that?” His dad asks, referring to the lack of pouches. 

“Less waste dad.” 

His dad just stares him down, judging him. “Is everything okay Stiles?”

Stiles just sighs. He doesn’t want to have this discussion right now. He doesn’t want to have it at all. After all he is a fan of ignoring problems until they go away. But the likelihood of this going away at all is small. “I think it’s safe to say that everything from now on will just be mediocre at best.”

His dad gives him a smile. “It always gets better Stiles. Nothing bad lasts forever.”  
+++  
The cold is just one more thing to bear. It’s easy to write off. Pretend it’s just his body settling back into the colder weather now that it's November. After all, being consistently chilly is hardly supernatural in nature. And it hasn’t sidelined him from helping the pack in any capacity. So he doesn’t mention it to anyone and covers it up as best he can. 

When Scott asked for a pencil the other day and their hands brushed, Scott pulled back like his hand was burned. Stiles covered it quickly, excusing the cold weather for the temperature of his hands. Which was true, he just happened to omit that his entire body including his soul was bone-chillingly cold and he had lost all feeling in his feet despite wearing two pairs of socks. Scott just smiled and grabbed for Stiles’ hands, warming them in between his. 

Stiles almost let out a moan it felt so good. He could feel the heat seep into his extremities bringing them back to life. 

Scott rubbed his hands really fast, squeezed and then let go. “Better?”

Stiles looked down at his hands and color had come back to them. When he stretched them out there was no pain or resistence. “Yeah, much. Thanks Scott.”

He was graced with Scott’s 1000 watt smile and that alone warmed his heart.  
+++  
Stiles can hear his alarm going off. Again. His tired brain refuses to wake as the warmth of his bed and the heating pad at his feet pull him back under. He begs for just a few more minutes. He wants every second he can get. 

The alarm sounds again tugging at consciousness. His hand reaches out to his phone and forces his eyes open. 

7:08 am

_FUCK_

He jumps out of bed and pulls whatever clothes he can find on and stuffs his homework in his backpack. He thankfully remembers to pull out and unplug the heating pad and then basically runs out of the house. The Jeep hums to life and screeches as he throws it into drive and pulls away. No breakfast, no hot tea. He looks down at what he’s wearing. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. He blasts the heat which thankfully still works and curses himself for not going to bed earlier and sleeping in. 

It turns out to be a monumentally shitty day. In his haste to get out the door he forgot his flash cards for english and somehow all of his homework for physics and two notebooks. The little voice in his head wears him down, constantly telling him he’s going to fail and his friends will realize they don’t need him anymore. When he catches his reflection in the bathroom mirror or in the glass of windows he sees how sickly he looks. His eyes look hollow and his skin, ashen. His hair lays flat against his head and the brown has even lost its warm tones. He hates the way he looks. 

By lunch his stomach feels like it’s about to dissolve itself. He sits with his friends as he shovels the food into his mouth. He prays that whatever food he digests stimulates his body into producing some heat. 

Stiles zones out of the conversations around him while his belly starts to round at the amount of food he consumes and when he feels it push against his waistband he hates himself a little more. He thinks about himself standing in front of his mirror at night after his shower and how he absolutely hates the way his belly protrudes slightly from his flat chest. It disgusts him. He drops the remaining food in his hands and throws the rest of his plate away. 

He looks back to his friends and realizes he has no interest in sitting back down. He leaves the cafeteria and makes his way to the basement into the boiler room for warmth. Stiles figured out it’s the hottest place on school grounds a few weeks back. He has escaped down to the room so much he knows how to slip past the janitors and teachers without a trace. 

He sits right in between two of them, heat radiating off and into him like a cat in front of a fire.

He leaves a minute before the bell rings and slips back into the crowded hallway like a ghost. He spots Scott waiting for him at his locker. 

“Hey, where did you go?” 

Stiles shrugs his shoulders. “I just wanted to be alone.”

“Okay, well, tell me next time before you disappear.” 

Stiles doesn’t respond as he exchanges his notebooks and folders. When he turns back to Scott, his friend just stares at him.

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles slams his locker closed. Stiles shrugs again. “Nothing.”

“Somethings wrong, you smell … different.”

“What do you mean different?” Stiles asks, annoyed at Scott’s persistence.

Stiles can see that Scott wants to say something but holds himself back. “Just different.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fine.” Stiles says, walking past Scott to his next class.  
+++  
Somehow the end of the day is even worse than the beginning. He can’t remember a Friday being as shitty as this one in a long time. And to top it all off, his last class had a broken heater. It’s surprising an icicle didn’t form at the tip of his nose. As soon as the bell rings he flies out of the class to his locker, gets what he needs for the weekend and then bolts to his car without saying goodbye to Scott. 

He shoves his fingertips into the air vents at stop signs and red lights. Anything to just get closer to the heat. At home he dumps his backpack in his room then moves into the bathroom, turning the shower on its hottest setting. He undresses, waiting for the shower to get warm and forces himself to look in the mirror. He hates what he sees. He looks like he’s dying: his eyes gaunt and his skin almost colorless. 

The mirror starts to fog up, the air around him becoming humid. Stepping into the shower he releases a breath as his body relaxes against the water. He stands under the spray with his hands on the wall and his head dipped down so the water can roll down his head onto his back. He stands there for as long as he can take it. The hot water only seeps in skin deep as his bones still feel achingly cold. Even the air he breathes turns cold as it settles in his lungs. He knows getting into bed is the only solution.

He dries himself off quickly, the fluffy white towel absorbing the water on his legs and arms before he runs it over his hair. He throws on clean pajamas and hurries into his room. He darkens it as best he can and jumps into bed, pulling the five blankets on him. The weight of them comforts him as he snuggles into the cold bed. It absorbs all the heat the shower created, leaving him colder still. He spots the heating pad unplugged and on the floor but can’t summon the strength to leave his bed.

He starts to shiver and curls in on himself, pleading with his body to generate heat. In between his chattering teeth, the rumble of Scott’s motorbike announces him like trumpets before a king takes his throne. Stiles sighs inwardly to himself. He’s not going to unlock the front door for him so his best friend will just have to find another way in. Within minutes Scott is opening his bedroom door but stops suddenly at the darkness. 

“Stiles are you okay?”

“Yep, just kinda tired.”

“You’re … kinda tired?” Scott asks, surprised.

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Maybe you’re coming down with something?” Scott thinks out loud as he walks out of the room.

“What? So in order for me to be tired there must be something wrong with me?”

Scott walks back in the room with a thermometer in his hand. “Yes.”

“Scott, I’m fine-” Stiles tries to answer as Scott sticks the thermometer in his mouth. 

“Humor me” Scott says as he sits down on Stiles bed. He lays a hand to Stiles forehead gently but as soon as skin touches skin he pulls his hand back. 

“Stiles you’re ice cold.” He pulls the thermometer out of his mouth. “Stiles! It says you’re 94 degrees! You have hyperthermia, h-how is this possible?”

“Wow really?” Shocked that his body is that cold.

Scott gives him a face like he can’t fucking believe his best friend. Scott takes off his shoes and starts stripping immediately. 

“I know we share a lot of things Scotty but I don’t think hypothermia is one of them.” 

“Move over.” Scott says as he starts pulling back the blankets and forcing himself in Stiles’ bed. “And we’re not going to share hypothermia, I’m going to try to get you warm before your organs shut down.”

Stiles wants to argue but as soon as he feels Scott’s legs brush up against his own, he pounces on Scott so every inch of his skin is absorbing Scott’s warmth. It’s a flurry of blankets and limbs until they settle, Stiles clinging to Scott for every ounce of heat. Stiles' head rests under Scott’s chin, locking them in an embrace as the werewolves’ hands rest on Stiles’ back, underneath his shirt.

“I don’t understand how this is possible. It’s only 50 degrees out Stiles.”

Stiles sighs, realizing there is no escape from the conversation that is about to occur. “Remember that time when you, me and Allison died from the sacrifice ritual?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Yeah of course I do. It’s not like that has happened more than once.”

Stiles stretches his fingers, lightly scratching Scott’s bicep, as his circulation starts to improve. “And do you feel the darkness around your heart?” He asks quietly. 

Stiles can feel Scott tense all around him. “Yes.”

“Well mine came with this coldness that never leaves.”

“Stiles, we did that weeks ago.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because! There’s nothing you can do to fix this Scott. Me saying something wouldn’t have changed anything. Besides I was managing it.”

“You were managing it? Stiles you’re hypothermic! That’s not managing, that’s suffering.”

Stiles has nothing left to say anyway. His secret is out and Scott is gonna make this a thing now.

Scott takes his hands and runs them fast up and down Stiles’ back and arms. “Is this even working? Should I be taking you to a hospital?”

“You can’t take me to the hospital. One, I can’t afford it, and two, it’s impossible to reasonably explain how I’m this cold. And yes, this is working surprisingly well. You as my personal heater-” he says with a yawn.

“You still feel like an ice cube.”

Stiles nuzzles into Scott’s chest. “So why’d you strip?”

“Easier transfer of heat.”

Stiles yawns again into Scott’s chest. “Don’t fall asleep Stiles.”

“Why?” he asks, yawning for the third time. 

“I want to make sure you’re not passing out.”

“Well I’m really tired so unless you have something interesting to say …” 

“Uhhh…” 

“Yep. Thought so. Well I’m gonna sleep until you think of something.”

Scott groans. “I’m gonna wake you up every hour to make sure your brain hasn’t frozen solid.

“Fine with me.”

Stiles closes his eyes and listens to his best friend’s heart beat and the sound of him breathing. The rhythm lulls him into a dark, peaceful slumber.  
+++  
Scott wakes him up every hour like he said he would. “What year is it? Who is the current president? Who am I?” Scott asked each time. He also checked his temperature as well which was steadily rising.

On the third hour when Scott askes, Stiles shuffles around so that his head is resting on the same pillow as Scott’s. “It’s 2032, the president is Gordon Ramsey and you’re my lover.” 

Scott rolls his eyes. “Ha ha Stiles. Seriously?”

“I am being serious. You’re my lover and we’ve been with each other for 10 years. You don’t want to get married because you don’t see a point to it and I don’t like the term boyfriends for us. Doesn’t really encompass what we are to each other.”

Scott continues to stare at his friend until Stiles breaks character. “It’s 2014, Obama is president and you’re my werewolf best friend.”

“Does that imply that I’m just the closest werewolf friend you have? That you have a human who is a better friend than me?” Scott asks, now making a joke.

“No, I just assumed you wanted specificity.”

“I did.” Scott says, reaching for the thermometer and slipping it back under Stiles’ tongue. It beeps a few seconds later. “Back to 98.6.”

“Good. Well I’m not going back to sleep, I’m hungry now.”

“What do you want?”

“Chinese” Stiles says in a heartbeat. And makes a move to get out of bed.

“No,” Scott pulls him back into him. “Stay here, I’ll get the food and bring it to you.”

He listens to Scott. He doesn’t want to leave the warmth anyway. Scott calls and places the order. He carefully dislodges himself from Stiles without releasing too much heat. Their favorite Chinese restaurant is half way across town. You have to leave as soon as you place the order or else the food gets too cold by the time you get it back home.

Scott dresses and hands the tv remote and Playstation controller to Stiles. 

“Find something good for us to watch. I’ll be right back.”  
+++  
When Scott gets back, Stiles insists on eating at the kitchen table, not in his bed where he could spill food everywhere. 

“I’ll be okay for an hour Scott.”

Scott looks like he wants to fight Stiles on this but holds his tongue. After dinner, Scott takes a quick shower, Stiles offering him a pair of loose sweatpants to put on after. They climb back in bed together, Stiles already cold to the touch. 

After the first movie ends, Scott already starts looking for something else to watch.

“You know you don’t have to stay right? I’ll be okay in bed.” 

“Stiles you’re so far from ‘okay’. You had hypothermia … I …” Scott shakes his head. Stiles feels Scott pulling him closer, sniffing the top of Stiles’ head. 

“Why did you do that?” Stiles whispers, as if his normal voice would break the trance.

Stiles can feel the werewolf shrug underneath him. “I had to.”  
+++  
Scott texts him, constantly asking if he’s okay. If he’s cold. If he needs him to sleep with him tonight. Yeah. Getting texts from Scott McCall asking ‘Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?’

Stiles choked the first time he got that text from Scott. He spewed water everywhere and blushed a deep red right in front of his dad.

His father just shook his head at his son, just Stiles being Stiles. 

No. Just his best friend asking him if he wants to sleep with him tonight. No big deal. God. There had to be a better way to phrase that right?

And nine times out of ten, Stiles would say no. He only said yes if he had a really shitty day and the cold wouldn't leave him or he couldn’t even fall asleep because of it. And sometimes even when Stiles said no, Scott still showed up, taking control, pushing Stiles into bed. 

If Stiles wasn’t so cold, he would probably get hard from Scott moving him around like that. Thank god the cold lowers his libdo to the point where even watching the dirtiest porn couldn’t get Stiles up. 

The problem really came when heat returned to his body. He knew one wrong move or thought and he would lose his personal heater permanently. 

As soon as he Scott heated him up, Stiles tried to distance himself from the wolf, only to wake up in the morning, wrapped around each other. 

On the nights when Scott did sleep over, his warmth would stay with him until lunch. On those days, even after the heat had left, Stiles would remain in a good mood because at least his mornings felt normal again.

One night when Scott comes over, he strips immediately, changes into sweatpants and jumps right into bed. The sweats are Stiles’ but Scott wears them so much now, that ownership has changed. He shuffles pillows around and pulls out the book for english class. Stiles remains at his desk, working on math, using Lydia’s notes as guidance. 

The cold has been gnawing at him for the past three hours. Ignoring it works for the first two hours but then his hands became stiff so he has to take breaks soaking them in hot water until feeling returns. 

He only has 5 more problems to do so he blows warm air onto his hands to keep going.

“Come to bed,” Scott says behind him, his voice soft. It isn’t the first time Scott says that to him either.

The domesticity of it makes Stiles insides churn everytime. It makes it sound as if they are together. Like together-together. And he sounds so natural saying it. Scott has to know he could have worded it better. Stiles’ wants to see if Scott realizes what he’s saying.

“I know how much you want me baby but you’ll just have to wait until I finish.” 

“I don’t like people keeping me waiting” he says in a sultry voice.

Stiles eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He turns in his chair to face Scott who is trying not to laugh.

“Woooow,” was all Stiles can say. But he isn’t going to give the ruse up to Scott that easily. “Are you always this dominating with your bed partners Scott?” 

With a smirk, Scott flashes his red eyes and answers with a yes.

“What, so I’d never get to top?”

Scott pretends to think it over. “Only on your birthday.”

Stiles can’t help his reaction. His jaw drops. And Scott bursts into laughs.

Stiles turns back around to finish his homework. “Trust me, you’d want it more than one day a year.” Stiles mutters to himself as Scott stops laughing and goes back to reading.

Stiles climbs into bed fifteen minutes later as he predicted and cuddles up against Scott. 

“Will the light bother you?” Scott asks, motioning to the book light, the only source of light in the room. 

“No, I’m not tired yet.” 

They lay like that for a while until Scott closes the book at a chapter and turns the light off. He moves them around a bit, Stiles’ back and lower limbs still very much cold. 

“Are you getting tired now?” Scott whispers.

Stiles shakes his head no. 

“What are you thinking about?”

The images of him fucking Scott and Scott fucking him flashes through his mind. 

“You know, us sleeping together … isn’t a solution. To me being cold.”

“It’s been working so far. And don’t lie, I know you’re better on days when we sleep together.”

“Well yeah but-”

“So why don’t you let me stay here every night?”

“Scott… I can’t ask you to do that. And what happens when we go off to college? You have to stay here in California and the only program I want is in DC.” 

“I don’t know Stiles but I can at least keep you warm until then.”

Stiles just sighs and shakes his head at his best friend. He doesn't want to fight so he drops the conversation. Scott pulls him in closer, their foreheads resting against each other. 

“I’m still here Scott,” Stiles whispers, reading Scott's mind. He knows the werewolf inside of him hates it when Stiles mentions him leaving. 

Scott kisses Stiles forehead, slowly pulling away from him. 

“Go to sleep Stiles.”

And so he does.  
+++  
He can still feel the kiss on his forehead for days after. It’s the one spot on his body that hasn’t turned cold again. He can rationalize to himself that the center of his forehead only feels warm because he focuses on it. On the kiss. But when he brings his fingertips to the spot, they touch warm skin. Move a little to the left or right, and his skin is cold again. But the spot remains. 

Stiles finds himself thinking about Scott kissing him at least five times a day. He loses himself in daydreams thinking about Scott’s lips on his and every inch of his body. He had fantasies of Scott before all of this, even before he became a werewolf. But he had pushed his crush for Scott down so far he didn’t think it would ever return. 

But now, the possibility of having a half naked Scott in his bed whenever he wanted, and be held by him was shaking his resolve.  
+++  
Stiles had had another really bad day. By the time Scott comes over, Stiles is already in bed, curled in a ball.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m here.” Scott quickly removes everything besides his black boxer briefs and climbs into bed with Stiles. He wraps himself around Stiles, his warm chest to his icy back and buries his arms into Stiles’ middle.

“I hate that this is happening to you.” Scott mumbles against Stiles’ neck. He leans in slightly and Stiles can feel him kiss the back of his neck. It’s only once and so soft, that it makes Stiles’ eyes flutter closed. And just like the last time, when Scott pulls away, the back of his neck, where his best friend kissed him, remains warm.  
+++  
Before Scott can text him the following night if he wants him to come over, Stiles beats him to it. He just showered so his skin is still a bit warm and wearing his thick sweatpants and hoodie helps as his hair slowly cools. He sits on the edge of his neatly made bed waiting for Scott to show up. 

He hears the motorbike outside and his friend bounding up the stairs a minute later. 

Scott stops in the doorway, noticing Stiles. “Hey is everything okay?”

Stiles stands up and walks over to Scott, stopping a few mere inches apart. Scott reaches out for his friend's hands, finding them already a bit warm, making him smile. He looks Scott in the eyes and leans in to kiss him but stops just before his lips touch. His breath comes out in puffs against his lips. His heart pounds with the rush that the intimacy brings. Scott pulls him in, lips meeting, their bodies leaning into one another. It’s fast. Like testing the water. “Why did you do that?” Scott whispers. 

Stiles leans in for a kiss tentatively. Their lips are soft and warm between them moving in sync. Like they’ve done this time and time before. 

“I’m tired of being miserable Scott. Not just the cold. But the darkness. I can feel it slowly killing me. I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you.”

Scott leans in again, stronger this time. He bites at his lips and it makes him feel dizzy. His hands hold Stiles’ head as he crowds him against the wall. His legs standing on either side of Stiles’. 

His hands move forward, resting each on the underside of his jaw. His thumbs move in small circles on Stiles’ cheeks. They feel so cold - it scares him into ending the kiss. He can hear Stiles’ heart pounding in his chest and he smells … happy. For the first time in a long time. But the underlying trace of sorrow still remains. 

“You’re not dying Stiles. I’m not gonna let you die.”

Stiles looks into his best friend's eyes. “You can’t save everyone Scott,” barely a whisper. 

The werewolves' eyes glow red and fade quickly. “But I will save you.”

His hands settle against Stiles’ hips, cautiously moving under his shirt, tracing the pale skin, still ice cold. His hands settle flat against his friends’ belly, the warmth seeping in. 

“I want more Stiles, I want everything with you. But I won’t make this worse for you.”

Stiles just smirks at Scott. Always the martyr. Putting other people's needs and wants ahead of his. 

“Yeah well,” Stiles steps forward, forcing Scott to back up and pull off his layers of shirts in one go. “I’m sure you’ll make me warmer.”

Scott pulls off his own without a second thought, stepping back into stiles, kissing him as his arms try to encase Stiles in heat. 

“In.”

“Bed.”

“Now.”

Stiles is slow to detangle himself but strips quickly to his boxers and slides into bed under the blankets. Scott follows suit and pulls the covers over their heads, trapping them inside. 

“I know we’ll need air eventually. But I need you warm right now,” Scott says with a grin, making Stiles smile as well.

He climbs onto Stiles, sitting on his dick and leans down to kiss him. Hands roam everywhere, trying to bring them closer together. The intense pleasure of sitting on Stiles’ dick and being able to kiss him everywhere rings through Scott. He moves on to his neck, kissing and biting his way down until he gets to his nipples.

He closes his mouth on one and Stiles moans, back arching, rubbing their dicks together. The air around them thickening. Stiles finally smells like he’s turned on and under the blankets it is intoxicating. His vision starts to change and he knows his eyes are glowing. 

“You know I don’t think I could do full shift werewolf sex with you Scott but the eyes … They’re such a turn on.”

Scott lifts up a flap for air and he can shake his head out of it. Stiles shivers from the cold rushing under. Scott winces. “Sorry, you just smell amazing Stiles, your scent is just overpowering under all of the blankets.”

Stiles smiles at him. “That’s fine. Everyplace you’ve kissed so far has remained warm.”

“Oh really?” Scott says with a mischievous smile as Stiles nods in affirmation.

Scott starts to kiss down Stiles’ body, playing with his nipples as he goes. Stiles squirming underneath him. When he pinches them hard, Stiles moans for him. 

He gets down to his boxers and in one pull, has them off. Stiles’ dick is beautifully hard and red at the tip. He’s also completely shaved. “Gorgeous” slips out from Scotts lips. He can see Stiles blushing from his compliment.

“Your hands shake all day from the cold and yet they’re steady enough to shave your cock?” Scott asks his lips so close to the head Stiles can feel the hot air on it. 

“I wanted to be prepared–” Stiles said as Scott sank his mouth on his cock. “Holy shit Scotty!”

He kept his mouth wide and his tongue flat as he sucked off Stiles. His head bobbed up and down, his hands pinning Stiles hips to stop him from squirming.

The noises that left his lips and the sweet scent of Stiles only spurred Scott on, quickening his pace.

“Scott”

“Scotty”

Scott took his hands off of Stiles hips and found his hands, resting them in his hair. Stiles gripped Scotts hair and started to fuck his mouth. “Are - are you sure?”

Scott just moanes around the dick in his mouth. He looks up to find Stiles staring at him, his mouth open in a silent moan. Scott forces his eyes to glow red and moan around Stiles' beautiful cock. 

“Oh fuck Scott, fuck.”

Stiles throws his head back and moans as he comes into Scotts mouth. 

The werewolf milked it for every last drop until he had to let go. He kissed his way back up to Stiles mouth. His tongue finding its way inside. He opened up the flap again for air and this time Stiles didn’t shiver.

“Warming up?” 

Stiles just smiled, wrapping his arms around Scott pulling him in closer. “I told you, every place you kiss makes me warmer.”

“I thought you were just saying that.”

He shakes his head no. “So you’re saying if I kiss you everywhere, you’ll be warm?” Scott asks cheekily. 

Stiles shrugs. “Maybe. But first …” he wraps his hands around Scott’s aching dick. His eyelids flutter from the sensation. 

“Stiles…” Scott moans. His head hangs down, resting against Stiles’ neck as his hips spur to life. 

“Do you want to fuck me Scott?” Stiles whispers to him. 

Scott just moans in response and nods his head in the juncture of Stile’s neck and shoulder. He lifts his head to look at him. This beautiful boy. With his beautiful eyes and the moles that cover his body. He clamps down on his dick with his hand, starving off his orgasm. 

“I really want to fuck you Stiles. I can’t stop thinking about it. And I was joking before when I said you could only fuck me on your birthdays. I think about you fucking me all the time too. I want you to Stiles. But right now, I really want to come inside of you.”

Stiles nods his head fast. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Scott smiles and kisses Stiles for all he’s worth. He lines his dick up and pushes in slowly, their jaws going slack at the sensation.

“Fuck Stiles, you’re so tight and hot. Not cold at all. Fuck.” Scott bottoms out in Stiles, feeling the other boy’s cock stir to life in between them.

“Hard for me again?”

“I’m actually hard for you most of the time.”

“Good, stay that way okay?”

“All the time?” 

Scott starts to pull out and push back in making Stiles moan. He drops his head on the pillow against Stiles’. “All the time.” he whispers in his ear. 

His hips set up a pounding rhythm and takes Stiles’ cock in hand to match. 

“Scott, fuck Scotty,” Stiles moans. “Fuck, I love you. I really do. And I’m not just saying that because you’re fucking me. I’m in love with you.” 

Scott’s hips move faster, hitting Stiles’ prostate. “I love you too Stiles.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Scott says coming inside of Stiles as he clamps down his dick, coming in spurts over both of their stomachs.

Scott lifts the blankets off of their heads and onto their shoulders. “Is this okay?”

Stiles nods, still catching his breath. Scott wiggles a bit, still inside, making Stiles gasp before he pulls out. 

He maneuvers them both to face each other on their sides, bringing them as close together as possible. The drying cum, trapped between them.

“You know this is going to get really gross right?”

“I don’t care, I like the smell.”

Stiles just rolls his eyes.

“How do you feel?”

“You were great Scott, really attentive” Stiles answers jokingly.

Scott now rolls his eyes at his friend. “You know that's not what I’m asking about.”

Stiles sighs. “I’m better I think. I’ll let you know if I’m starting to feel worse again.” 

Scott nods but keeps looking at Stiles.

“What?”

“I love you.”

A smile spreads across Stiles. “I love you too Scotty.”

“And I do believe in marriage. I want to marry you one day Stiles.”

The biggest smile spreads across his face. “Okay.”


End file.
